


Lacrymaria Olor

by antediluvianon



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Execution, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, i dont know man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29461401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antediluvianon/pseuds/antediluvianon
Summary: L'manberg executes people who wronged it with no trials and no mercy. It just so happens that Tommy's sins caught up to him.Or; Ranboo talks to Tommy for the last time.inspired by the song "lacrymaria olor" by nicole dollanganger.
Relationships: Ranboo/TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	Lacrymaria Olor

"You can come in now. Just don't try anything or you will end up together with him in that cell." Quackity shot the enderman a glance as he passed through the iron door.

In front of him stretched a hallway built out of dark obsidian, a few doors spread along the walls. As he went through the first section he crossed an opening, above which were carved the words "Abandon all hope, you who enter here". He ignored them as he reached the final entrance.

A knock filled the corridor after he hit his fist three times against the thick exterior. The door opened with a heavy creak, revealing a tall figure draped with netherite armour. Sam.

The man took a step back and moved slightly aside.

"Come on. You have ten minutes."

Ten minutes. They gave him only ten minutes to say goodbye, express every thought littering his mind, grieve, and let go of the only thing keeping him away from completely losing himself in ink and parchment. It was sadistic, to say the least. It was sick and twisted, but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it, and that was probably the worst part.

Ranboo set his foot in the room and walked in. The cold set down on his shoulders, slumping them and making him curl down on himself. As a distraction he let his eyes wander over the paintings, which tacked to crumbling stone walls. They depicted bodies getting flooded and strangled by fire, men getting nailed by their wrists to cross-like wooden structures. They hung still in place, almost in mockery displaying the believed fate of traitors.

"I think they are supposed to make me feel remorse or something." a familiar voice hummed next to him "It doesn't work though." it laughed dryly.

The hybrid took a glance behind him. Sam stood in one of the nearest corners, closely looking at the two, ready to take out the sharp blade strapped to his hip. Ranboo wondered where the loving creeper was. The one who sent Tommy out to complete silly little tasks as a form of entertainment, the one who let the traumatized boy cling to him at night after suffering a nightmare. He wondered if Sam felt guilt.

He snapped his head back and walked in hurry to the table, centered straight in the middle of the cell. He took a seat on an algid chair.

In front of him sat Tommy. An orange jumper clung to his back, it had a white thread sewn into it in a form of small letters, which spread over the left side of his chest. 

'002', they read.

It was a sad sight. The blond curls laid flat against the boy's forehead today, grease and sweat pulling them down and parting them unnaturally. His hands were restrained by metal cuffs, connected by a short chain. He laid them on the table, shackles clinking with every move. Almost as if not minding this entire situation, Tommy had a shit-eating grin splayed over his face.

They sat in silence for a moment before the enderman put one of his hands on his lover's. 

"How are you doing?" Ranboo asked, voice hoarse. 

"Decent, if you ignore the fact that in at most an hour I will be falling from a cliff." The blond turned his palms up and intertwined his fingers with the other.

Ranboo smiled. Even in his last moments, Tommy managed to smile and make sarcastic comments. It was impressive.

"You know," he started speaking again, tracing shapes mindlessly with his thumb against the pale skin "when I got exiled I wanted to die. I remember building a tower at some point, I stood at the top of it. I was ready to jump, but I didn't. I still don't know why, perhaps it was fear. I have to confess to you something. Even after running away I still felt the need to stop existing, to fall asleep and not wake up again. I realized that I wanted to live a few days before my execution was officially announced." his shoulders moved up in a silent laugh "It's kind of funny. When I wish to die the fate somehow makes it impossible for me to pass away, yet when I realize that maybe I do want to wake up and breathe through another day, I get told that I will be killed."

A few warm tears fell onto the iron separating them.

"It's just unfair," Tommy whispered, his mask shattering and finally displaying his trembling lip and furrowed brows.

A dull ache wrapped around Ranboo's ribs. He wanted to cry. He wanted to let salt pour down his cheeks and leave bloodied holes in its place. He couldn't cry, though. Not now. 

And so he took in a shaky breath and gripped Tommy's hand tighter, in a way that would crush the other's bones if he were to clinch it any harder.

"I know."

There was nothing they could do. The deal was sealed and Tommy was going to die. He was given a choice, a small entertainment for his executors. He could choose between getting hung or diving head-first into the ground. He chose the second option, thinking it would be ironic. If he was going to leave, he wanted to get a good laugh out of it, even if only he knew why it was funny.

"You know, sometimes at night I kneel and pray. I don't know to who or what, but I just repent for my sins. Don't get me wrong, I'm not religious in any way and if I could I would hit god square in the face. It's just that I hope that somewhere out here Wilbur can hear me and forgive me for having to join him soon."

The room became even colder. Not that it mattered anymore. Its resident would be gone soon anyway. 

The paintings still stared at them. One caught Ranboo's attention. It was one of a man wielding a weapon, face hidden by gray beard and hair; a merciful God. One that's supposed to protect his children and love them unconditionally, no matter what atrocities they committed.

It really was all funny, in the most unfunny way possible.

"I love you, Tommy." Ranboo's throat clenched as he spoke.

The boy before him just smiled sadly and squeezed his hand back. 

"I love you too. Can you vow something to me?"

The enderman nodded his head rapidly, sniffing and wiping his nose with a sleeve.

"Please come watch. I want to see you one last time before I go." Tommy looked at him, eyes tired. The hope drained from them fully by now.

Ranboo swallowed, feeling as if he was breathing in fistfuls of sand.

"I promise."

A hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him up from his chair with ease.

"Your time is up. Please leave or I will be forced to escort you out of the building." Sam spoke up harshly, directing the boy over to the now open door. 

Ranboo looked up at him, searching for any emotion. Anything. And he found it.

Behind the mask were watery eyes of a sad father. Shame and anguish practically spilling out of them. The boy understood, he wasn't mad. Not at Sam at least.

Making his way to the exit he threw his head over his shoulder one last time, tears still threatening to break through his pathetic, little dam. Before he let the door close, he spoke up one last time, voice trembling,

"I'll miss you every day."

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know if you find any mistakes, i havent properly read through it.


End file.
